


Alea Iacta Est

by TruebornAlpha



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Greek Mythology, Anal Sex, Fluff and Angst, Hades - Freeform, Immortals, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Memory Magic, Persephone - Freeform, Sheith Month 2017, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2017-08-30
Packaged: 2018-12-10 05:52:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11685411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TruebornAlpha/pseuds/TruebornAlpha
Summary: Keith is a lost god trying to prove himself by taking down the evil Lord Hades, but the Underworld is nothing like he expected.A Hades/Persephone Sheith myth, written forSheith Month August 2017.





	1. Hades

The gardens of Olympus were perfect as always. Its  fountains bubbled with crystal clear water, poured from the urns of stone maidens that looked so real, they could almost step into life. Flowers blossomed in a riot of colors, well-tended and all in bloom. Distantly, the sound of a lyre carried on the breeze, a hauntingly beautiful melody, sweet enough to make a man’s heart stop.

Keith didn’t notice any of it.

His sword flashed in the sun as he thrust and parried, training in the steps of war. He’d only worn his leather armor during training to maximize his flexibility and speed, pushing himself to find his limits. He still wasn’t as strong as Ares, nor as fast as Artemis, his strategies nowhere near Athena’s. but combat gave him focus and a clarity of purpose he couldn’t find anywhere else.

“Your defensive posture is still sloppy.” A bored voice called out behind him and Keith stumbled before turning with a glower at the young god who distracted him. The other Olympians tolerated him, a lost god of no importance. Even when Olympus itself hung on the edges of war between those loyal to Zeus and those who backed Athena’s power, their interest passed him most of the time. Though there was one who never seemed to give him any peace at all.

“Don’t you have anything better to do?”

Dressed in silken lilacs almost as lustrous as the gold that dotted his skin was Lotor, the God of Greed. Unlike the other gods, the humans required little coercion to fall to his worship. There were some who said that the humans had birthed him through their own fixation with avarice, though they only said that within earshot if they hoped to start a fight. Or to make a point.

Lotor never failed to make the distinction between his bloodline and the caliber of his half-siblings.

There was an insatiable hunger in his eyes that Keith refused to acknowledge. It had the power to drown a soul, and he would not give his brother the satisfaction.

“Yes. Always. But you remain a burden of compassion that I cannot bare alone.” Lotor drawled easily, circling Keith like a viper poised to strike. Keith did not lower his sword. “Let me put this in language you understand, brother.” 

He lunged. Lotor was a blur of motion, the whistle of his sword through the air as delicate as a chiming bell, but Keith was stubborn enough to keep fighting. He parried to the best of his ability, but when a well-placed thrust left the blade of Lotor’s sword against his Adam’s apple, he froze. His brother’s smile was vicious. “I  _pity_ you.”

 Keith snarled and knocked the blade away, bristling in anger. “I don’t need your pity, I don’t want anything from you!”

“Of course you do.” Lotor always sounded like he was on the edge of laughing, cruel and confident like the world existed only for his own amusement. Keith despised him for it, and deep inside, he was jealous, despite knowing that only fed Lotor’s strength. Even the God of Greed was loved by the humans, worshiped in their temples and in their hearts, given true sacrifice by those who chased Lotor’s attention. Greed led to riches, to fame and to power. Few of the other gods could be so generous with their gifts.

Worse, Lotor always knew what someone desired, the twisting unspoken need that consumed them. Even a god’s secrets were laid bare for him. “Don’t you have anything better to do?”

“What could be better than helping my dearest brother find his real power?” Lotor sheathed his sword and smiled like poison. “Aren’t you tired of being an outcast, oh god of nothing? The gods tolerate you for now, but you know that won’t last forever. You have no powers, no worshipers, no purpose. I’ve even heard whispers of them banishing you to Earth to live among the mortals.” He paused, fixing Keith with a look that was almost sad. “You don’t deserve that.”

“Get to the point. What do you want from me?” Keith spat. No one else could raise his heckles quite like his brother could. Yet he knew Lotor well enough to suspect that he had a plan up his sleeve. It wasn’t paranoia. Keith knew he was important enough in his brother’s eyes to warrant his attention without purpose.

“I want you to stop embarrassing yourself.” Lotor’s smile was filled with teeth. “And to stop humiliating me.”

Keith’s eyes narrowed into slits. “If you’re here to get rid of me…”

“Such accusations, I’m wounded.” Lotor put a hand to his chest dramatically. He laughed, which always made Keith want to hit him. “On the contrary, I’m here to help you.”

“I don’t need your help.” Keith growled.

“Don’t you? I see you training every day to prove yourself to those who don’t even notice you and who frankly don’t deserve you. You are a god, meant to be a hero. You are supposed to inspire worship and fear and awe in mortals who dedicate themselves to your name.” Lotor’s words were barbed, striking deep in Keith’s heart where he was vulnerable.

“And you’re going to teach me to be a ‘real’ god?”

“No, I’m going to give you a chance to be that hero on your own. There’s a Darkness that hunts the Olympians, Keith. An evil that frightens even the immortals themselves. There’s no one who’s been brave enough to stand against it, but I thought you might be the only one who isn’t afraid.”  

“Or the only one stupid enough to try.” Keith snapped.

“Maybe.” Lotor’s grin was a wicked thing. “And maybe if you don’t come back, that’ll be one less inconvenience for me to worry about, but I’m not lying. Hades is a monster, one that’s plagued both human and immortal for eons. He goes beyond stealing the life from his victims. He erases them, leaves them as little more than wisps of smoke to play with for the rest of eternity. Perhaps if you could end this common threat, you could even ease tensions in Olympus itself. Bring unity and peace.”

“I don’t believe you.” Keith frowned, his arms crossed over his chest, as his brother leveled him with another unimpressed stare.

“Then don’t. But I would’ve thought that you, more than anyone else would have understood the meaning of being erased.” Lotor said. “Goodbye, brother dear.”

Keith refused to give Lotor the satisfaction of a grand exit. He turned his back first, stalking across the gardens until his brother was nothing but a bad memory. Then he kept walking, through Olympus and its flourishing fields, past the soft clouds that hid it from view and further still. Into the untamed wilds. There were few places he could be guaranteed privacy, but this was as far better than most. No one but the most desperate ventured out into the wilds.

It was the perfect spot for a forgotten god.

If he’d wanted, he could resume his practice unbothered. He had no reason not to. But Lotor was a snake, damn him. He’d gotten in his fangs in Keith, and now Keith couldn’t forget him.

He was undoubtedly lying, but the worst part was knowing that he might not be lying about everything. Keith knew just how inconsistent Zeus’s hand in justice felt. At the best of times, the Almighty was untroubled by danger and cruelty unless it inconvenienced him.

There was one thing that he knew Lotor wasn’t lying about, the gods themselves were afraid of death. It was something they couldn’t understand in their immortal splendor and the Lord of Death represented an end of everything. He was rarely on Olympus, preferring to rule over his dark, morose kingdom beneath the earth. Maybe it wasn’t a preference. Long ago, the most powerful gods competed to determine what kingdoms they’d rule, Zeus as the most powerful lord of the sky, Poseidon the earthshaking lord of the sea. They’d tricked Hades into the underworld, leaving him with the unwanted job of handling mortality and becoming stained by its imperfection.

The other gods treated it as almost a joke, the clever, bright, handsome gods winning over the evil god banished below.

But doubt hounded him, Lotor was always too good at that. Was the Lord of the Dead truly evil? Keith never ventured to the cities of mortal men and didn’t know what happened when their spirits fluttered to the underworld. Could Hades erase them from existence? Did he have designs on the golden throne of Olympus and plan to bring death among the immortals?

If he foiled a plot to topple Olympus, Keith would be lauded as a hero. The other gods would have to accept him then and the humans would worship him as a defender. He would have saved the innocent and vanquished an insidious evil. He couldn’t deny that a part of him yearned for that validation. The only way to know for sure was to sneak into the realm of death and learn of Hades plans himself. No immortal had ever crossed that boundary besides Hades, not even Hermes who guided the souls of mortals to the gates of death. The other gods were afraid if they took that step beyond, they’d be trapped and their immortality taken from them.

If Keith wanted to save them, he’d have to take the risk.

It was a disquieting thought. Keith was not unafraid, and rightly so, but cheating death was not a task lightly taken. It was time to make his own gamble. He told himself he would be careful. He would listen and learn before he struck. Keith convinced himself that his journey into the Underworld would help secure his decision, and from there, he moved swiftly.

There were many paths to the Underworld, but he hoped to achieve entrance without surrendering his immortality. To find one, all Keith had to do was follow the roads that even the gods feared to tread.

By the shore of a winding river, its waters as clear as the sky above, Keith planted his feet. The river Acheron spread before him, its quiet beauty like a balm in his soul. His steps felt lighter than normal, lighter than even air. Keith felt like he could walk forever.

He didn’t notice as the sun slowly sank beneath the horizon, Apollo finally surrendering his domain to Asteria, but a gentle laughter caught his ear and turned him, as if on a lead. 

“Who’s there?” Keith called out warily.

“A friend.” Was his answer. “To guide you of your path, traveler.”

“I don’t have any friends.” Keith bristled, but the trees swayed around him in a breeze he couldn’t feel on his skin. A creature stepped from between the trees, materializing like mist as Keith stared. The man was graceful but powerful, build as solid as the tree around him and dressed in yellow gold. His skin was dark and warm as his eyes, and he offered Keith a smile.

“You should probably do something about that then.” The man said bluntly. “I’m Hunk, I’ve been watching you. You’re not seriously thinking about crossing the river on your own, do you?”

“That’s none of your business.” Keith snapped at the other immortal, but there wasn’t heat in his words. Hunk wasn’t one of those who’d ever hurt him, he had no reason to be cruel. The strange god flopped down on the edge of the river, leaning back against a tree.

“Look, I’ve guided people along this path for a really long time, I’ve watched a lot of idiots get themselves in trouble trying to do what you’re planning. Mostly mortal heroes though, they always seem like they’re in such a rush to prove themselves.” Hunk said thoughtfully. “Most of them don’t come back, Hades isn’t really known for letting people go once they get to his realm. A few have stumbled back, changed forever. I’ve listened to their stories.”

“So what do you want from me?” Keith said, the last of his bitterness replaced with a more subdued sort of curiosity. His question only seemed to sadden the god, and Keith wasn’t sure what to do about that.

“I don’t know. Rethink it?” Hunk shrugged. “Their stories weren’t very happy ones.”

Keith hesitated openly. Help always came with a price, but Hunk was sincere in a way Keith’s brother could never learn to be. He practically glowed when he smiled, like he’d stolen some of Apollo’s light. Keith wasn’t used to concern. “I can’t do that, I’m sorry.” He said and cleared his throat. “But I’ll try to make my story a better one.”

Hunk eyed him warily, before reaching into his pouch and revealing a smooth, crisp coin. He let out a bone-deep sigh as he made his offer. “Please do. This should help. You’re going to need to buy passage. It’s the only safe way to cross.”

Keith wanted to disagree. Those he should have called family had left him suspicious in the worst sort of way. None of them had treated him like this, with simple compassion. “Okay.” He said at length, extending his hand. The immortal’s joy was beautiful, and Keith ducked his head, ashamed of his paranoia. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me, that’s just going to get you part of the way through.” Hunk said, looking across the river. His smile faded a little, worry creeping into his bright face. “That’ll just get you across the river Styx, the boatman is kind of a jerk.”

Keith couldn’t help but smile. No one had ever been worried about him before, but Hunk was a gentle soul. “I’m pretty sure I can get by one grumpy ferryman, Hunk.”

“But what about the dog?”

That made Keith pause. “What dog?”

“There’s a giant dog guarding the entrance to Hades! It’s enormous, some kind of monster. It has three heads, so even if it’s sleeping, there’s one still awake.” Hunk waved his arms around for emphasis. “It lets the dead in, but keeps them from leaving. You, I’m not so sure.”

“So how did the others get by?” Keith asked thoughtfully, bending down to face Hunk. “You said there were people who made it down and returned.”

“Only a few. Sad Orpheus followed his love down into death and had to return without her. He plays music so sweetly that even Cerberus didn’t attack him. He still sings about his heartbreak to the nymphs sometimes.” He said. “His music is enough to make anyone cry. Hercules came through before, he brought Cerberus right out of Hades with him! Hercules was so big, he just wrestled the beast into submission and carried him around like a pet. Had to put him back, though. You may need to rely on tricks, a personal favorite of mine.” Hunk said with a wink.

Neither of those sounded like great options. Keith had a fairly decent voice, but his pipe skills sounded more like a dying bird and no one would let him near a lyre after the turtle incident. He could fight Cerberus if he had to, but he wasn’t big enough to lift a monster like that off the ground. “Those are both mortals. Haven’t any gods gone to the Underworld?”

“No, never.” Hunk sounded so sure. “The gods and the rest of the immortals stay as far away from death as they can, they’re afraid they’ll be trapped there. Even I just show the dead to the entrance as they begin their journey. I’m sorry, I wish I could help you more.”

“You’ve helped me more than I could’ve ever hoped for,” Keith said sincerely. He would have to make his own way. He hesitated, looking towards the lovely river then back to its lovelier guardian. The sun had disappeared completely, and in the moonlight, the god was ethereal. “When I come back, I’ll find you. And, and thank you again.”

“Just focus on coming back, friend. I’m always here,” Hunk teased.

“As you say. Friend.” Hunk took one step and was gone just as suddenly as he’d arrived. Keith would have doubted he’d existed at all, if not for the coin in his hand.

Keith really hoped he could keep that promise. It seemed nice to have someone to come back to. He walked and walked until the fine sands of the shore turned to smooth stone, and the waters swirled with shadow, leaving behind the tranquil beauty of the Acheron. Between one blink and the next, a mist began to rise, lightly at first like an insidious snake, but once Keith noticed, it poured in like a flood.

Through the mist, he saw the figure. Hidden beneath a heavy cloak, all Keith could see was his burning gaze that watched from its shadow, and his long, matted beard that tumbled down to his feet.

“This is not a path for the divine.” The words whispered around Keith, seeming to come from all directions at once. It caressed against his skin, an unwelcome touch that left him shivering.

“I would cross.” Keith said, planting himself before the ferryman who regarded him from beneath his ratty hood. He refused to back down, he’d come too far to turn tail and run. Besides, he could almost hear Lotor’s snide mockery ringing in his ears, if he slunk back to Olympus, too scared to face whatever the Lord of the Dead was planning.

Charon finally held out his hand in silence and Keith slipped the gold coin into the ferryman’s palm. It glinted for just a moment before he tucked it away, lost within his robes, and gestured for Keith to join him on his boat.

The ferry barely looked seaworthy, but somehow it stayed afloat even as other pale, faded spirits joined them. Each one paid their ferryman with a gold coin that he plucked from their mouths, and took their places in the ship. Keith edged away from them, discomforted by their ghostly appearance. When the barge was full, Charon pushed off into the inky black waters of the river Styx. Keith could swear he saw faces in the reflection of the water, gaping mouths screaming into silence.

What sort of horror must the Lord of the Underworld be? He commanded such terror, and Keith hadn’t even broached the gate of his kingdom.

Keith had been so entranced by the water, he didn’t notice how their barge had lightened. Long threads of shimmering mist bled through the boat’s basin and into the waters. One by one, fear and anger, grief and anxiety, and pestilence and senescence left the dead and melted into the water. They created pillars that stretched to the floor of the river and curved into the arching ceiling above it, before reaching down in jagged stalactites that never quite touched their heads. 

A caw like an angry eagle echoed through the dim, and somewhere above them the whoosh of powerful wings teased the surrounding mist. A monstrous cry answered in the distance, and again, and again. Keith couldn’t see clearly beyond Charon’s little boat, but he clutched his sword in its sheath, listening to the cacophony of beasts that surrounded them. In the midst of it all was a great Elm that shimmered as if it was made of spirit. Beneath every silver leaf fluttered the glitter of stardust, but the longer Keith looked at it, the duller its light became, until he turned away and it flared in his periphery.

Was this what his brother warned him about? Was this the fate that awaited the gods?

The boat jostled, its base dragging across as they hit shallow waters. Keith made to jump off, but Charon extended a bony hand halfway, only to withdraw, like he hadn’t decided to help or hinder.

“The waters of Acheron and Styx and Lethe flow deep.” He said, an almost warning, an almost dare. “Even the divine must pay their price.”

“What price?” Keith asked, his voice softer than he would’ve liked, but he sat back down, his hands on his lap like a berated child. It might have been a trick of shadow, but as Charon turned away, Keith thought he saw a smile.

“You will not know.”

The boat’s keel dragged across the jagged, finally coming to a halt beside a rickety dock made of blackened wood. One by one the spirits disembarked, their ghostly feet never touching the ground or the water beneath it. They followed a path that smoothed into tiles like polished marble and down a bend that seemed to be lined with the same stone.

Keith considered following them, but there was another path, a narrower one that was less traveled and far less inviting.

Well, he’d never intended on knocking on the Underworld’s front door.

He took the untraveled road, stumbling over broken rocks and squeezing between sharp boulders as he snuck into the Kingdom of the Dead. Here, everything shone with a grey sort of light, muted reflections of life on earth. Nothing grew on the rocky ground, no sun brightened the sky, no birds sung. There was only the soft sigh of wind, though Keith almost felt like it was the soft moan of a voice. Or many voices.

He pressed on until he came to another river, though the thin trickle of water was barely more than a stream. It ran with a glitter of quicksilver instead of the dark inky blackness of the Styx and the rushing blue of the Acheron, but he knew it was deceptively deep. One misstep and he would sink into oblivion, forgetting all that he was. Keith wondered how much a god of nothing with no past and no power had to lose.

He pulled a small wineskin from his belt and poured the drink on the ground before carefully filling it with the waters of the river of forgetfulness. A wisp of a plan began to form and he held his new treasure close. Would the Lethe work on creatures born in the darkness of the underworld itself? There was only one way to know. Keith continued on his broken path as unseen things rustled around him, ready to devour the unwary and the lost but shrinking back from his divinity as if the light inside of him frightened them.

Finally, the path wandered back to the main track, worn smooth by the shuffling feet of the dead. Above them, the great dog Cerberus loomed in the grey mist and even Keith felt a moment’s apprehension. The creature was bigger than he’d thought with massive fangs and three enormous heads that watched the procession of souls. It was calm now, but who knew when it could turn?

All of a sudden, the great beast paused, its heads tilted at an angle as if alerted. Keith hadn’t moved, but he tensed now, too afraid to even let out the air that filled his lungs. Then one by one its heads lowered, turning back towards the procession.

Keith hesitated a moment longer, not quite ready to believe that his luck had held.

He took a step closer, then another. He could see the path beyond Cerberus’s massive shoulders, taunting him with its proximity. His heart caught in his throat. He could almost imagine his approach, bypassing the guard completely by climbing the walls around him. In his eagerness, Keith took his first step.

That was all it took for everything to unravel.

His foot caught on the mere sliver of the path not completely flatted, and a tiny pebble was knocked loose. Cerberus turned his massive heads in unison, wild eyes wide and hungry for the hunt. Keith gasped, the entire world coming to a terrifying halt.

Cerberus charged.

Keith dove, a madman’s move, but he slid just beneath the middle jaw as the beast lunged at the spot he would have been. Cerberus stumbled, but he faster than he looked, massive body twisting with a dancer’s grace to round on his prey. All the while, the procession of souls continued without even a moment’s pause. 

The great monstrous dog snapped at him, chasing him down with all three heads braying. Keith could barely keep a step ahead of the snapping jaws. With a shout, he threw himself  _at_  Cerberus, grabbing handfuls of its fur as he hauled himself upwards. The beast spun like a top, trying to bite him off, but he grimly tightened his grip as Cerberus thrashed. With one hand, he found his wineskin and pulled the cork out with his teeth, letting the quicksilver waters of the river Lethe splash the dog in its center face.

The beast stopped, blinking in confusion before shaking itself dry. Keith didn’t waste a moment, taking advantage of Cerberus’s confusion as the dog forgot what it had been chasing. Without looking back, he bolted through the final gates and into the kingdom of the dead itself.

Keith let momentum carry him on, breath ragged in the silence of this unnatural gloom. Shadows danced in the corners of his eyes as the spirits listlessly drifted through grey fields, bare shades of what they used to be. In the distance, thunder rumbled high overhead, though without a real sky, was it really thunder? He didn’t want to think about what kind of creature could make that noise. The palace of the dead looked white as bone, gleaming in the twilight, as cold and forbidding as the air.

He let his instinct guide him, a thread of golden power that spoke of divinity deep in the heart of the underworld. There was only one god in this place, only one person it could be. It took no time at all to find the man cloaked in black standing in a field of asphodels. Or maybe it took a hundred years? Time moved sideways in this place, skittering and slipping away from him.

Hades was armored beneath his cloak, the metal as dark black as void. Spirits gathered around him with their arms outstretched and pleading for something with their silent screams. Keith didn’t see his face hidden behind his helm and was secretly glad as he gathered his nerve together. Face to face with death itself, Lotor’s accusations sounded so much more real. There was no way this “god” was anything but evil, another creature confined to the Underworld but one with the power to destroy the souls entrusted to his care. With a loud  _shing_ , Keith unsheathed his sword and leapt at Hades’s back.

“You-” His opponent turned, only his dark eyes visible beneath his helmet but they were wide in shock. In recognition? All it took was a fraction of a second, but Keith lunged, ready to deal a finishing blow before their battle could truly begin.

Hades took a graceful step back, and Keith’s sword pass through nothing but air.

Keith had one chance to end things swiftly. Now he refused to let Hades regain his composure, desperate to believe there was still hope on his mad quest. Yet no matter how many times he advanced, no matter how many times his attacks struck, Hades refused to fight back.

Rage curled in Keith’s belly. Even his enemy dismissed him, refusing to see him as even being worthy of a fight. The gods thought he was nothing, but this? Keith’s lip curled as he whirled, forcing Hades to dance back. He was close, he could feel the tip of his sword graze the metal of Hades’s armor, bright sparks flaring in the gloom. “Fight me!” He snarled.

The god of the dead was silent, avoiding each strike but never making any move to counter or to fight back. His eyes burned from beneath his helm as Keith poured all of his strength into his blows. Suddenly he moved, cape swirling behind him like wings. He dodged into Keith’s strike, catching the blade of the sword deep into his forearm. It wasn’t until the edge bit into the metal that Keith realized it wasn’t armor but the arm itself, crafted with clockwork pieces so intricate that it could only have been the work of Hephaestus.

“Enough!” Hades’s voice boomed loudly enough to make Keith jump and he yanked back on the sword, sending the blade spinning away. When his cloak settled, Keith could see the pale, translucent spirit Hades had moved to protect, taking the blow himself so the dead soul wouldn’t. “Fight me if you must, but the people here are under my protection

Keith stumbled, but he didn’t lower his sword, even as the poor soul fled in horror. The Lord of the Underworld stared him down.  
  
“I apologize,” Keith said through gritted teeth, though with sincerity. He hadn’t meant to threaten an innocent. “Let the mortals pass and fight me honorably. I will not let you hurt anyone else.”  
  
To his surprise Hades laughed. It was a bitter, unhappy sound. “Oh son of Zeus, whose tales brought you here?”

“I am Keith, son of  _no one_ , but I’m here to end you. I’ve heard about your evil and I’m not afraid to face you.”

“No?” Hades removed his helmet and cast it aside. “Then you’re the only god brave enough to do it.” He looked younger than Keith expected, not the gnarled bearded warrior, but a man barely grown and handsome. His dark eyes glittered with something unspoken, black hair streaked with white. Even the deep scars carved into his face didn’t detract from the divine beauty to him. Keith tore his eyes away, lifting his fists and ready to fight even without his weapon.

“I am.” Keith had never been so sure.

His enemy didn’t even flinch, just extended his hand and watched the confusion play over Keith’s face. “You can call me Shiro. Welcome to my kingdom.”


	2. Memories

 

The Underworld was nothing like Keith imagined. And neither was its king.

Hades had answered his violence with compassion, protecting his citizens from Keith’s blade, and Keith couldn’t raise a hand against him now. He had been expecting evil, a twisted monster poisoned by cruelty and death, waiting for his chance to strike against the living world. A bitter and unhappy creature trapped below in a haunted kingdom and planning to overthrow the gods himself.

What he got was Shiro.

The Lord Hades was a quiet man who watched Keith snarl and spit, demanding answers for baseless crimes. When he was done, Hades just invited Keith back to his palace to share in his hospitality. Keith was too shocked to do anything but accept.

The entire palace was made of white marble, as cool to the touch as its lord, and just as beautiful. It seemed to shine out of the gloom of the Underworld like a beacon, drawing spirits to it as moths to a flame. They crowded around its walls, silent and sad, waiting for something that would never come. Whenever Keith saw them, he shivered and moved away so his own divine light wouldn’t attract them. It felt unworthy somehow, but the touch of the dead chilled him.

“Why are they here?” He finally asked his host reluctantly.

“They’re trying to remember how to live. The light makes them feel something again.”

Beyond the polished walls of the palace were the pointed roofs of a sprawling village. Though more modest than the palace, the surrounding houses were just as polished and well tended. Yet even that wasn’t enough to banish the gloom of the Underworld.

“Then let them go.” Keith challenged. “They’re miserable here.”

Keith would have thought that the Lord of the Underworld smiled, if a smile could hold all the bitterness Shiro had. “There is nothing as vibrant as misery here, young lord. I was not the one who took their life, but I can make sure their souls won’t wander.”

As he spoke, ghostly figures swept through their path, swaying to an unseen melody. They seemed just as lost as newborn lambs, but in their Lord’s palace, their moaning and weeping subsided. They found some measure of peace.

Shiro lead them to a tower entrance and into a staircase that seemed to go on forever. Keith hesitated, but Shiro’s smile had softened, turning into something hopeful. He wouldn’t back out now. They climbed and climbed, and just when Keith thought his knees would give out, they came to an empty corridor. Shiro continued to the double doors at its very end. They opened to a magnificent balcony, high enough to overlook his entire domain. In the distance, Keith could make out the grey fields where he’d attempted battle, and a rush of shame darkened his cheeks. Shiro was watching him intently, but when Keith looked up, he hastily averted his eyes.

“I would offer you wine and fare, but it is best you avoid them altogether.” Shiro said, sounding for the first time, almost sheepish. “Hestia made her finest for my people, a never ending feast truly, but at a price. Anyone who eats in the Underworld has to remain.”

Keith frowned. Gods didn’t need to eat and drink. Was this the trap the immortals were afraid of falling into that would bind them to the Underworld forever? It seemed easy enough to avoid. “Where are your armies?” 

There were always warriors in the halls of Olympus, Zeus’s personal attendants who held the other gods in line. The soldiers who followed his general, Ares, and the ones who bristled at his control under the banner of Athena. Lotor had said that Hades was preparing to march on Heaven and Earth, but Keith saw no sign of war here.

Lord Shiro just chuckled and gestured out to his kingdom. “Many found themselves here because of war, but I give them rest from the fighting. Beyond our guardian at the gate, we have no warriors here. What would be the need?”

“You mean your monster dog?”

“Cerberus is a good boy. He protects my people. There must be a barrier between life and death.”

That made sense, but there was still a strange feeling of loss in Keith’s chest that he couldn’t understand. Death was beyond an immortal, but this place seemed to open his eyes. “But isn’t it sad here? The spirits mourn forever and they can never leave. Some are so faded that they barely remember what they used to be in life.”

Now Shiro looked sad. “I didn’t create this place before I was made its protector, and we are all bound by the rules of it, gods and mortals alike. I don’t have the power to create a life for them here. I give them a pale reflection of the sun and only the memory of its warmth. I try to ease their pain, but they have no hope of anything better.”

“Who put you here?” Keith asked before he could stop himself, even if he already knew the answer. He was taken aback by the horror of such an existence. For all his power, Shiro was as much a prisoner as those he guarded.  

The cold curl in Shiro’s sneer said more than enough.

“It was my punishment for trying to stand against _him_.” Shiro scoffed, watching Keith with guarded eyes. “Was it yours to try and slay me?”

Keith held his tongue, but turned away before guilt or shame could grant it freedom. He felt lucky when Shiro decided not to press.

“But another banishing may be imminent. Olympus is never satisfied in its quest for power. In Zeus's quest.” Shiro shook his head. If it came down to that, he knew where he would throw his support behind. There was nothing Zeus could do to him now, nothing left he could take if Shiro added his weight to the forces massing behind Athena and her call to fight. He had suffered in the last rebellion, but with the warrior goddess to lead them, Shiro thought they might actually have a chance to restore peace to the heavens, but war meant abandoning his people. If he didn't protect them from the war between the gods, no one else would.

But the strange newcomer just moved closer, brushing his elbow against Shiro’s, an olive branch that couldn’t be anything but deliberate with how they stood, and Shiro found himself fighting back a flush of shock and the pleasure that came with it. He cleared his throat. “It’s better with me here anyways. Who else would look out for them?”

“I’ve never thought much about it.” Keith confessed.

“Most immortals don’t. Mortals have such life and such power. They’re born into the world like flickers of light and they burn bright enough to be stars. They love fiercely, they rage passionately, they create and destroy. Some can be cruel, but others are more compassionate than any of the gods. They are beautiful and gone all too soon. They never get another chance to try again, to learn and to grow. It's a shame.”

Keith didn’t disagree. He had seen cruelty from gods, selfish creatures who demanded praise for meager blessings. Zeus was the worst of them and so many followed in his footsteps. There were others who resisted under the banners of wisdom, but even they never noticed a god of nothing.

“Come with me, I want to show you something.” The almost smile was back on Shiro’s face and Keith was surprised at how much he wanted to learn its meaning. The God of the Dead led him out of his castle and through the Underworld along the path the spirits took, winding through sharp rocks and empty fields. Suddenly, a great beast rose to meet him, all three heads barking furiously at Keith.

“Hush, quiet down now.” Shiro calmed Cerberus with just a word. “He is a guest.”

The hulking monster towered over them both, but he settled instantly. The closest head nosed at Shiro’s hair, but Keith didn’t think he was imagining the way the middle one watched him with suspicion. The Lord of the Underworld didn’t seem to notice. He gave them each aggressive chin scritches, cooing sweet words that made their tails beat.

“Look, he has a spot!” Shiro called, from under his guardian’s jaws, scratching eagerly at a patch of soft brown fur on his chest that Keith might have noticed if he hadn’t been busy fighting for his life. It was ridiculous. Then Cerberus flopped over, hard enough to make the ground around them tremble, and Keith had to laugh.

Shiro jogged back to his side, noticeably more damp with monster dog drool. His grin stretched from ear to ear, lighting up his features like a candle in a dark room. He seemed to catch himself just in time, regaining his composure, and Keith was sorry for it.

“He was mine since he was this tall.” Shiro held his hand up to the middle of his chest.

“How tiny.” Keith said, completely deadpan, and a little bit more of that smile returned.

“He won’t bother you now.” Shiro reassured, and from the inside of his robes, he revealed a smooth gold coin. “If you follow this path, you will find the docks. Wait there for Charon, the boatman, and if you give him this, he’ll ferry you without question.”

Keith’s hand closed around the golden coin and he looked up at Shiro, confused again. It seemed like everything the Lord of Death did was to throw him off balance. Nothing about this was what he’d expected or what he’d been warmed against. “You’re letting me go?”

“You’re not a prisoner here, Keith. Stick to the path and avoid the river Lethe or you will forget your way back. You are my guest, but this is no place for a god who shines as brightly as you.”

Shiro’s words caused his cheeks to burn as he took a step back and looked at the long path back towards the living. “You’re not what they said you were.”

“I find that people rarely are.”

With that, the great Lord withdrew and left Keith clutching the gold coin. He turned to the path carefully picking his way among the stones. He should have kept Shiro’s warning in his mind, but it was his compliments that he held close. When he stepped off the path, he didn’t notice at first, too lost in his own thoughts. When the rocky boulders gave way to silent grassy fields, he finally realized how far he’d strayed but didn’t turn back. He wasn’t ready to return, not yet.

Death was a mystery locked away from immortals and now that he’d abandoned his violent mission, Keith could finally see the muted beauty of this place. It was like Shiro had tried to craft a paradise for his denizens, but everything seemed cold, built with the memories of life without the spark that burned within them.

He wandered through the villages of white stone, exploring the mastery that Shiro had built. The spirits gave him a wide breadth at first, distracted by what sources of false light they could find, but as Keith wandered farther from the Citadel of Hades, the spirits grew more restless. They trailed after him, like dogs that feared a scolding but couldn’t fight the hope of affection. When he stopped, so did they.

Watching them made a pit of guilt sit in the center of Keith’s chest, a memory of his own brash cruelty coming to haunt him. The least he owed Shiro was to be polite to those he protected. “It’s okay,” he called out. “I won’t hurt you.”

None approached at first, but Keith was patient like so few could believe he had the capacity to be. To a nothing bastard of the Almighty Zeus, a little patience was one of the earliest lessons he was taught. Slowly but surely, the spirits approached. Their intangible touch ghosted across his heels, but it was Keith’s own fears that made him shudder. Then they touched his arm, his shoulder, his hands and feet. As he watched, one of the most daring placed his hands in Keith’s, as if he was a long lost brother. His faded eyes widened, and misty features softened into a human smile, lit from the inside in a way that Keith had never seen. Then the spirit walked away and disappeared completely. Keith couldn’t find him, even if he tried.

When Keith resumed his walk, he was left alone, but when he allowed contact, they came to him in droves. Something about them made him feel light-headed and giddy. It stayed with him as he reached an empty field covered in translucent asphodels, the same spot he’d first met Shiro. Now that he’d taken the time to see, Keith could see that new flowers had bloomed in the clumsy lines that their one-sided battle had carved. As he watched, more grew at his feet, more solid than their siblings. Keith flushed, and looked up.

No matter how far he went, Keith never lost sight of the castle. He wondered if Shiro watched him from his balcony above his kingdom.  

It was a nice thought.

He walked and he walked and he walked, finding trails that lead to deeper, darker places, masked by smoke and ash and the promise of heat. He crossed fields that made his heart ache and his eyes mist, with only the soft, broken cries of the heart-broken for company. Then before he knew it, Keith spotted a familiar tree in the distance, the great shimmering elm at the entrance of the Underworld. He hadn’t realized he’d come so far.

A gravelly woof caught his attention.

The monstrous beast towered over him, all three heads panting slightly with their tongues lolling. Keith had no idea how Cerberus had snuck so close to him without his noticing. A dog that big should not be able to creep up on anyone, but Keith hadn’t even heard it approach. He regarded Cerberus with a wary glance as it watched him back with thrice as many.

Then it barked again, dropped down on its front paws and wagging its massive tail excitedly.

Keith was startled enough to laugh. He reached out beneath Cerberus’s chin to find the little brown spot of fur. As soon as he scratched it, the dog flopped over, all three heads with matching stupidly happy expressions, and Keith laughed again. “I was wrong again.” Keith said. “Always seeing monsters when you’re not so bad at all.”

Cerberus’s tail thumped hard against ground as one head, braver than the others, licked Keith affectionately. The god gasped, shaking the drool from his sleeves.

“Uh. Good dog?”

The giant three-headed dog rolled over and without warning, grabbed Keith between two of its soggy mouths. No matter how the god flailed, he was gently trapped and knocked reeling by twice the dog breath. The third head kept lookout as Cerberus trotted purposefully across the flowering fields of asphodels and scattered villages of the dead, intent on its mission. Once Keith realized he wasn’t about to be torn apart, he gave up and let himself be carried across Hades before being dropped unceremoniously on the ground. Cerberus barked proudly.

Keith sat in a puddle of dog drool and scowled, looking up… and into the face of the Lord of Hades himself. Shiro barely maintained his regal composure before doubling over in snorting laughter.

“Oh- oh no, Keith!” Shiro gasped. “I mean, young lord, you’re-” He visibly struggled for something that would be at least slightly polite then held out his hands to help Keith to his feet. He was still grinning, but Keith couldn’t appreciate it when he was too busy trying to wipe the drool out of his face. “I thought you’d already left.”

“And rid your pet of a chew toy?” Keith grumbled darkly.

Shiro frowned up at his guard, but three doggy grins greeted him without a shred of embarrassment. “Did he stop you from leaving? I’m sorry. I can escort you back?”

“No, no. He wasn’t bothering me. I was just in the way. I guess.” Keith hurried to placate Shiro, a little surprised by how annoyed he was by the god’s insistance he leave. He didn’t think he was bothing anyone, but Shiro would’ve had more motive than any to want him gone. Except Shiro was smiling at him now, in that soft way he had when he was on his balcony, and when he reached for Cerberus, that look only warmed further.

“He must have thought he was helping someone out.” Shiro said.

Keith scowled, staring down at his soggy toga. “Sure.” It was almost impressive how thoroughly he was soaked. “He found me over at the grey fields? The ones that feel like…”

“Yes, I know. They were-” Shiro cut in before Keith could finish, but realized how rude he’d been and stopped. “My apologies. Please come with me, I will help you clean up. Cerberus, stay!” He ordered as the giant dog gave him three identical drooling grins.

Keith let himself be led into the cool marble palace, the stone reflecting back his own light with every step. Wispy souls gathered around him, their translucent hands becoming more solid as they touched him and helped him undress as Shiro turned away for modesty’s sake. The pampering felt strange, Keith had never received such attention before, never treated as if he mattered enough. The spirits wrapped him in new clean linens, pinning the shoulder of his toga with a glittering ruby as large as his fist.

“Will you tell me about the fields?” He asked, watching Shiro’s back stiffen at the question before the Lord of Hades sighed.

“They were supposed to be a gift for a friend long ago when the world was young and we were all newborn gods, as innocent as children. Before there were mortals or death, or boundaries between them. I shaped those flowers for him, but he is long gone and the fields are just a faded memory. The souls who pine for lost love tend to find their way there, I hope that whatever is left of its beauty helps them.”

That was not what Keith had been expecting and he touched Shiro’s elbow to turn him. “What happened to your friend?”

“I can’t remember. Even a god’s memory fades after so long.” Shiro’s fist clenched, and a shockingly vicious laugh caught in his throat. “Or it’s stolen from you.”

He looked down at Keith, and whatever he saw on the other god’s face deflated his anger before it could truly gather steam. He managed to disguise his frown before he offered, “But I would be happy to escort you to the docks.”

It was Keith’s turn to frown, crossing his arms over his chest. “Have I offended you?” Then he paused, and added, “Since trying to kill you? I understand that may still be an issue.”

Shiro snorted, but a grin was tugging across his features, even as he tried to fight it. “You’re one of the nicer ones to try in recent years. It’s fine, young lord-”

“Then call me Keith.” The god straightened his stance, holding his head with all the pride of a seasoned war horse. “And stop trying to get me to leave.”

“This is no place for a god.” Shiro said softly and Keith gave him a sad smile.

“Then it’s lucky that I am the god of nothing. I’m not going to be missed in Olympus and I have no worshippers who know my name. This may be the perfect place for me.”

Shiro took his hands and squeezed them tight, looking down into his eyes. “You are a god who brings light to this place, don’t you even see it? You bring warmth and life. You may not know what your powers are, but you are powerful and important. Only a fool wouldn’t fall on their knees before you.”

“Shiro-” The breath caught in Keith’s throat, his heart beating hard against his ribs. There wasn’t anything behind Shiro’s words but the truth, no deception or false flattery that Lotor always loved. No one had ever valued him or thought that a god of nothing mattered. He was never welcome in the golden halls of Olympus or among the mortals of earth, but here in the Underworld, the god of death himself treated him with kindness. He looked down at his feet where tiny red flowers bloomed as their vines wrapped around his sandals. “I  _want_  to stay here. Can I?”

For a moment, it looked like Shiro was going to protest further, and Keith braced himself for disappointment, but the God of the Underworld squeezed his hands one last time. “My kingdom will always be open for you, Keith. You are my guest for as long as you wish to be.”

Keith’s heart thumped in his chest, drawn in to Shiro’s dark eyes, and his embarrassment tugged at his chest because he didn’t know how to ask if he could stay forever.


	3. Past

Death was beautiful.

Keith stood on the balcony of Shiro’s white marble palace and looked out over the unending kingdom of Hades. The sun Shiro had made to shine in their not-quite sky seemed brighter lately, and the hazy mist that drifted across the land had lifted. Flowers bloomed across the fields and even the souls seemed more substantial. When Keith walked among them, they clustered towards his light and left with darker shadows across the ground. A few spoke with him, some even laughed. Every once in a while, one would disappear completely. After spending his life being ignored and passed over, the reverence was shocking.

He didn’t know if the underworld was changing or if  _he_  was, finally finding his place among the dead. It made no sense that the gods feared this place. It was quiet and could be sad, but it was lovely in its own way. There was a sense of peace and tranquility, of safety and rest. Old grudges and hatreds fell away and those judged evil were locked far from the innocent. Death might have kept them trapped, but Shiro loved them. If they could just remember what it was like to love, then maybe this place could actually become the paradise Shiro hoped it could be.

A section of Hades already was. At the heart of his kingdom stood Elysium. The fields were golden with still, glassy lakes and flowers in colors Keith had never seen before. Only the bravest, the smartest, and the heroes with the purest heart were allowed within its boundaries. Shiro had never thought that was fair, but no matter how he tried to bridge the roads to Elysium, he failed. He was as bound to the rules of Hades as any of its denizens.

Within Elysium, there were supposedly islands that were even lovelier and even more difficult to reach. Keith could see them along the golden horizon if he concentrated, but he’d never been there personally and felt no motive to seek them out. Whenever Shiro spoke of them, resigned frustration laced his words, and even if those islands were as close to life as the creators of this realm could make it, they’d already been spoiled for Keith.

Whenever he was this high above the world, Keith had an unobstructed view of everything under Hades’ domain. He saw the way Cerberus and his tails rejoiced at the great gate, greeting Charon’s next flood of guests, and the way the tiniest souls danced and swayed by the castle’s walls, but Keith instinctively sought another being. No matter how he tried to avoid the urge, no matter how valiantly he fought to restrain himself, Keith inevitably searched for the Lord of the Underworld. He could recognize Shiro by stance and posture alone, the shock of his white hair just as silvery soft as the teardrop-shaped leaves on the Great Elm in the opening of his kingdom. Keith had once mentioned in passing that Shiro’s helmet left him glum as it obstructed his view of the gentle Lord. Shiro had flushed peach and laughed through an excuse, but Keith hadn’t seen that helmet since.

Keith spotted Shiro on the edge of his silvery fields, crouching by a new thicket of grey flowers. There was nothing in this world or the one above it that could keep Keith away.

Light seemed to follow him as he left the palace and wandered towards Shiro’s lonely vigil. There was no rush, time meant nothing to immortals and meant even less in this place. He let himself stroll through villages and along empty roads, drawn inexorably towards the master of this land. Shiro was deep in thought, features drawn in a severe frown and too focused on his work to notice that he had company. The black cloak swirled around him even though there was never a breath of wind in Hades.

Suddenly the ground shifted, giving rise to a thousands of blooms. They rose like a wave of silver, swaying in the invisible breeze as their petals darkened and smoothed, deepening into a rich magenta, like the sweetest wines.

Shiro  _snarled._  

“No!” He snapped, running his hands through his hair, but his grip was cruel, like he was trying to claw through his skull. The flowers shriveled, like the coldest month of winter had come, twisting and dying, before another wave burst through. These was softer, their petals rounder, their centers dotted as if by honey. Shiro hissed and they burst into mist.

“Who are you?” Shiro’s voice bit through the still air with the rough edge of frustration. Keith startled for a moment before he realized the lord of Hades hadn’t been speaking to him. “Why can’t I see you?” The flower in his hand bloomed, petals spiraling open and the silver color bled into a velvety red. The flowers around his feet followed suit, the red spreading like a stain of blood across the field.

“Why can’t I remember?” Frustration slipped to anger as he crushed the flower in his palm. Red petals drifted down to the ground. As soon as they touched the earth, they burst into flame and consumed the other flowers in a sudden blaze that reduced the field to ash around Shiro. “Why won’t you show me?!” 

Darkness gathered around him like a cape and Keith shivered, his breath visible in the sudden chill. The fires roared to answer, crackling like lashing whips as they spread higher and higher, drowning the world in flame. Keith gasped as they swallowed the fields, spreading like liquid to tear through Shiro’s gentle fields. Spirits fled in their wake, weeping and wailing, but Shiro was doubled over, fingers digging into his skull like he could shatter bone, lost in his grief, and Keith couldn’t- 

“Shiro stop!”  
  
The Lord of Hades turned to him, the glare of red and gold reflecting like a new dawn. He was terrifying. If Keith had been met with this on his first trek into the fields, his heart would’ve crumbled, but he couldn’t be afraid. Shiro needed him.  
  
Keith drew him in, pulling him into an embrace that felt like ash and tasted like smoke. Shiro had been unflinching, immovable, but with a single touch, Keith left him shattered. He sobbed through his rage, and behind him, the flames slowly waned, as if touched by the first splashes of rain.  
  
Keith held him until the fields extinguished themselves, leaving nothing behind but charred embers. All around them grew new flowers of bright silver.  
  
“I’m sorry.” Shiro whispered, and even his voice sounded spent. “He left or they took him away. I don’t know anymore but he’s gone.”

“Who was he?” Keith asked gently, brushing his fingers through Shiro’s hair. Who could have harmed the very Lord of Death itself? “Where could someone go that you couldn’t find them?”

“I don’t know.” Shiro tucked Keith’s chin into his neck and held on. He remembered everything from the creation of the world. Long ago, they’d warred against the titans for control and the world was split in three, Zeus tricking him into the Underworld and away from his precious glittering Olympus where immortality reigned. But there were pieces missing, gentle memories before war and exile. A friend who’s smile shone like the sun, a crown of red flowers gracing his brow that Shiro had willed into existence to adorn him. A simple love before everyone had turned from him in fear, too afraid to even say his name in case they summoned death to their side.

The boy had been lost to time along with the man Shiro had been before he’d taken the throne of Hades. It was more like a dream than a memory, running between his fingers like sand until there was nothing left of it. He couldn’t even remember what the flower looked like, even though he’d crafted it from his own hands. Now, none of his attempts to recreate it felt right.

“I’m sorry I frightened you.” Shiro murmured, but Keith was having none of it.

“I’m not afraid of you, Shiro. Even a god is allowed to grieve. Come, let me take you home.”

 _Home_. Shiro started at the word that passed Keith’s lips so easily. “Is it really your home?”

“Wherever you are is my home, Shiro. I thought I made that clear.”

“Keith-” Shiro started, then stopped almost immediately, at a complete loss for words.   
  
“Oh. Then I guess I haven’t.” Keith realized, with regret. “I’ve never done this before. I assumed that by staying… Never mind. The man you mourn changes nothing.” Keith decided, almost imperiously, only to frown after a moment. “Though if he already has your heart, I suppose I will have to make due.”

“No, I-“ It was not often that something could steal away Shiro’s ability to speak, but he fumbled like an innocent, gently tugging Keith closer. “Forgive me, I’m not used to anyone offering me kindness. Or their love.” He murmured. “I thought that my kingdom had offered you refuge, I didn’t know that you felt, that you could ever feel anything for me.”

“Is it that hard to believe?”

“Stranger than you could imagine. I lost someone so long ago that I can’t even remember their name, there is no claim on my heart, Keith.” Shiro took Keith’s hands and pressed them against his chest, bronze armor cool to the touch. “Except for yours. My kingdom is yours, as am I, if you would have me.”

He spoke with such hopeful sincerity that Keith forgot to take breath. He traced his fingers down the strong lines of Shiro’s armor like he could imagine the warmth beneath, letting his mind wander with everything he could have, everything already offered on a silver platter.

“Do you swear it?” He rasped, looking up at Shiro with heat in his eyes. “I may be a god of nothing, but I am an honest one, and a jealous one, and I’ve thought I was yours for too long now.”

He felt Shiro shiver against him, his mouth falling into the softest groan, and Keith curled his hand around the back of Shiro’s throat, drawing him in until their foreheads touched. He felt bold. He felt powerful, daring to take like he’d never been allowed.

And Shiro let him.

“I swear on the river Styx.” He whispered against Keith’s mouth and the ground itself seemed to tremble beneath their feet at the weight of his words. Even a god would never break that sort of oath. Keith’s heart soared as he stroked his hands through Shiro’s hair and drew him down to a bed of flowers beneath Hades’s thin, shining sun.

Lotor had no idea what kind of gift he’d given when he’d challenged Keith to visit the Underworld. One of these days, he’d have to remember to say thank you.

Shiro was spread out beneath him as Keith straddled the god’s hips, eyes dark and wanting, but waiting for Keith to make the first move. As powerful as he was, Shiro deferred to Keith, letting him set the pace and matching his fervor without pushing too hard or too fast. “Tell me what you want.” He gasped as Keith’s teeth gently bit against the curve of his neck.

“If I say everything, would you give it to me?”

“Gladly!”

Keith stole the word from his lips, kissing it away before Shiro could form the last syllable, twisting it into a drunken, heady groan that Shiro couldn’t have stopped even if he wanted to. His hand snaked behind Shiro’s head, trapping him in place as he licked him open with all the fervor of a drowning man gasping for breath. Keith demanded everything and then took more, like he was scared Shiro would change his mind or he still thought he could chase him away, but Shiro opened so sweetly for him every time, his strong hands sliding up the cut of Keith’s tunic, until they could splay across warm skin and Keith moaned.

All at once, he was on his back, pinned against the soft Earth, but Shiro was still kissing him, still touching him, and every second made it harder to think and impossible to breathe. He’d never been kissed by a god. Shiro was sweeter than ambrosia but twice as intoxicating, and when Shiro touched him like that, he was already gone.

“Let me see you.” Keith whispered, as they parted, breathing hard but he couldn’t seem to find any air. Shiro’s hands were between his legs, stroking across his thighs as his toga fell whorishly around his hips. Keith liked him there, like feeling his heat where his skin felt so feverish, and he reached up to tug on the clasp of Shiro’s armor. “If you are mine then let me see all of you.”

Shiro obeyed with a smile, unbuckling the bronze cuirass and setting it aside. Next came the graves, unlacing each one until his legs were bare, leaving him in just a sleeveless tunic of fine white linen. His skin looked like marble beneath it, carved directly from stone, hardness beneath warm velvet skin. It was marred by ugly gashes, the immortal body scarred. Keith reached up to trace wondering fingers along one long mark near Shiro’s collarbone. Only a powerful god could cause such wounds that wouldn’t heal. Like the clockwork arm that was bound to Shiro’s right elbow. It was beautiful, intricate, and picked out with gems of every color, but only a replacement for the hand he had lost.

Keith could have asked what each one meant and the trauma that caused them, but he didn’t. For that, Shiro was grateful. With more shyness than anyone could expect from the Lord of the Dead, he finally stripped the tunic over his head and let it fall to the grass beside him. Other gods would have called him imperfect, but Keith only saw the beauty.

He reached up to trace his name into Shiro’s abdomen with his fingertips, enjoying the way the god shivered beneath his touch. He scratched harder, dragging blunt nails down Shiro’s back without ever breaking the skin to watch him arch back into the touch.

The only thing he could think of were selfish thoughts.  _This is mine. He is mine!_ Exultant and proud and still unable to believe this was real.

Dark hair curled down from Shiro’s navel, his cock hard and thick, curving up against his stomach. Keith couldn’t help himself as he reached to wrap a hand around it, stroking slowly to watch Shiro’s eyes darken, his lips part in a silent breath of air.

“Keith.” Shiro growled, not unlike that monstrous beast he called a pet, and Keith would’ve laughed, if he didn’t feel so much like cheering.

“Why?” He demanded, chin raised in a haughty angle that left Shiro chasing him for a kiss. Keith wouldn’t give in immediately, watching his partner twitch and strain for him. “Is this not mine, too?”

Shiro stuttered out a curse, so mangled it was little more than a rush of air, his hips bucking without rhythm against Keith’s palm, like he couldn’t help himself. It was the goddamn hottest thing Keith had ever seen. Then Shiro spread his thighs, splitting him apart with obscene ease. He pressed in close, letting his legs keep Keith in place just the way he wanted, his weight bearing down on him as he swayed against him, dragging his cock through the tight grasp of Keith’s fist. Keith inhaled sharply and couldn’t seem to let it go.

“Then will you let me give it all to you?” There was a wicked edge to his voice, a hunger that Shiro could barely keep restrained. Keith’s toga pooled around him, his bare knees scratching against the grass, and he ached for more, ached to feel Shiro every way he could. Something must have shown on his face because Shiro’s grin was nothing short of filthy.

“If you insist.” Keith teased, releasing his grip as Shiro gave a frustrated groan, and stretched his arms up over his head. His body pulled taut, muscles defined on his leaner frame. A man build for speed and agility rather than brute strength, a warrior who used his skill in battle. He arched back among the flowers, looking up at Shiro with dark hooded eyes and knew he’d won this fight.

Hands of flesh and bronze skimmed down the sides of Keith’s body, delighting in each hard plane and soft curve. When Shiro looked at him like that, Keith thought he’d be devoured. Shiro brought Keith’s legs together and slowly eased himself into the tight press of his thighs, cock dragging against Keith’s in one long thrust.

He could feel Shiro moving between him, the length of him, the girth. He felt him push deeper and deeper, Keith’s own cock trapped between them, forced to drag across smooth skin until he was trembling with it.

“And if I want more?”

Suddenly there was a hand around Keith’s wrists, pinning them into the dirt, stretching Keith until he was gasping, forced off the ground in a graceful arch. Shiro’s mouth was on him, across his jaw and down his throat and working across his shoulders, each kiss filthy and wet and mean. Blunt even teeth bit into his skin, hard enough to bruise and when Keith cried out they only demanded more. Shiro’s hand was on his hip, dragging towards his ass, long fingers digging into the meat of his thigh as Shiro’s cock spread between them again and again.

Shiro sounded wrecked, voice gravel rough and painfully thick. Keith had never heard anything like him before, anything so desperately needy. “If I want more than coming over your cock and ass. If I want to make you scream.”

“Then  _make_ me.”

Keith’s head was jerked back with a sharp tug, and Shiro was kissing him, taking him apart on his tongue and teeth until Keith’s chest ached and his mouth was slick with spit. Shiro pulled away and left gasping, struggling for air, but there was no room for it when Shiro fed him his fingers, leaving Keith drooling around them with sloppy strokes.

“You feel so good for me.” Shiro whispered into his ear, possessive enough to make Keith moan. Each thrust was deep and deliberate, a slow drag of Shiro’s heavy cock pressed between his thighs. It was a testament to Shiro’s indomitable willpower that he managed to keep himself so restrained after so long without being touched. Keith sucked on his fingers, rolling his tongue around him as Shiro fucked him down into the soft bed of flowers.

Shiro pulled his fingers away, finding better purchase as he twisted them into the godling’s black hair. He yanked back to make Keith arch beneath him with a gasp, body trembling as Keith fumbled to stroke himself in a desperate rhythm to match Shiro’s own. “More!” He demanded, greedy in his desire. No one had offered him anything and now that Shiro had, he wanted everything.

He was crushed under Shiro’s weight, breath punched out of his lungs in grunting gasps. Sweat streaked down where flesh met flesh, and Shiro bent to lick the salt from Keith’s skin. He thrust hard enough that Keith cried out, a strangled sound that could have almost been a name.

Shiro’s hand wrapped around his, tightening around his shaft, and Keith shuddered all the way down to his toes. There was a darkness in Shiro’s eyes, a hunger that Keith didn’t know he could fill, but it felt so damn good he couldn’t care.  There was no where else for him to go, fucking into Shiro’s touch, he’s buckling as he tried to squeeze his thighs together, holding himself good and tight but Shiro made it so hard to think.

“Mine.”

A vicious promise, smooth as silk against Keith’s skin and he was cumming, all over them, slicking their fingers and spilling across their chest. Shiro kept pinned through it all, as Keith writhed and moaned for him. Shiro kissed him through it, swallowing down each sound until Keith was completely spent.

“You’re so beautiful.” Keith heard, his eyes feeling heavy, his skin prickling with cooling sweat. Shiro wouldn’t stop touching him. It made him whine and shiver, oversensitive and used but too satisfied to do anything but preen. “Let me?” He rasped, kissing along Keith’s crown and down to the shell of his ear. “Let me.”

Keith groaned, feeling Shiro’s fingers dig into his belly, kneading against him. Then he was pushed forward, let gasping against the dirt, eyes screwed shut as Shiro worked him open, his own cum slicking his fingers and god that was too much. Almost too much.  

When Shiro pressed the fat head of his cock against Keith’s entrance, he groaned, trying to life his hips up higher to meet him. Shiro entered with a single, slow slide that filled Keith until he thought he was going to split apart. His mouth fell open, eyes closed, Shiro’s name caught in the back of his throat as he choked on his own scream. His body pulled wire tight and close to breaking, strumming with pleasure as Shiro drew another shuddering orgasm from him.

Gods shouldn’t have that much power. Keith never wanted it to stop.

Shiro curled around him, head bowed against Keith’s back as he rode him hard. Tight, wet heat was too much for even the Lord of Death to bear and his control shattered, thrusts wild and desperate. He came deep within Keith’s clutch, spilling his seed with a grunt of almost-pain, breathing heavily against Keith’s ear.

All they could do was gasp for air, no words to capture the moment of lingering bliss. At least until Shiro laughed. It was infectious, unabashed and without any pretense, just shameless joy as he withdrew and wrapped his arms around Keith. There was no way to resist and Keith found himself swept up in Shiro’s laughter, limbs entwined as they reclined back against the dewy flowers, Shiro’s frustration long forgotten.

“That was. That was…” Shiro started and stopped and tried to start again, but Keith just laughed, pressing closer until he could kiss him on his pink pink lips.

“I liked that a lot.” Keith teased. He watched as his lover’s smile turned bashful, the apples of his cheeks warmed with pleasure, and Shiro leaned in, resting their foreheads together. It was almost a kiss, a reminder of what they could have, and that made it sweeter. Keith walked his fingers across Shiro’s thigh, the jagged lines of batter scars left smooth across his skin when Keith wiped him and sucked the cum off his finger tips with a wicked smile.

He felt Shiro gasp and then shudder, a strangled little noise caught in the back of his throat as he looked away.

“Keith!”

“What?”

Shiro was so rarely caught off-guard, but Keith found there was something exceptionally satisfying about doing it like this. His lover dragged him back into his arms, hiding his face in Keith’s shoulder with a pained groan. Keith traced down the curve of Shiro’s shoulder. No matter what he did, he couldn’t seem to stop smiling. “I like it when you don’t wear your armor.” Keith admitted.

“Then I suppose I shall have to change my wardrobe.” Shiro pressed a kiss to the side of Keith’s face. “You may need to as well. My consort should be dressed in the riches of his kingdom.”

Keith blinked stupidly at Shiro, trying to understand the words. “My  _what_? You want me as your consort? Shiro, no. I’m god of nothing, I’m happy just being yours.”

“You wanted everything. Demanded it, I can still taste your command on my tongue.” Shiro teased. “You are my equal, I want you to be my partner. If this is your home, then you will be its leader. Sounds like you’re the god of something now.”

It was too big a gift, Keith didn’t know what to say. Instead, he buried his face in Shiro’s chest and hid his smile, holding the happiness inside of him like he wasn’t sure he was allowed to keep it. He really had everything.

He fell asleep in Shiro’s arms in the fields of heroes, warm and at ease under the light of the Underworld’s sun. It wasn’t until his eyes had closed that Shiro realized the silvery flowers around them had changed, bleeding into a bright red with a golden heart. They were so alive that they seemed to shine, casting halos of light. It stirred a long forgotten memory, the flowers he’d created as a gift that he’d lost over the eons. He poured his entire heart into it, long before he was cast down into Hades and became so cold.

Shiro remembered weaving them together into a crown, the red bright against dark hair. A smile that made his heart leap. Then it was gone, leaving an ache behind in its absence.

He reached out to pluck one of the new blooms and gently tucked it behind’s Keith’s ear where it belonged.

They stayed together, and for a while, all was well. Then the pounding of war drums echoed through Hades and gods descended for blood. 


	4. Death

The Underworld resonated with Keith in a way he didn’t think the mortal realm ever had. Its power settled across his skin, twisting around his nerves and flowing through his veins until Keith wasn’t sure how he’d ever survived separated from it. Slowly he’d learned how to bend and shape the world to his will. Though he lacked the experience of Hades, he could build as his husband did. He could create and reshape until the world molded to his vision. If that was his birthright as a son of Zeus, or the magic of the Underworld embracing its new leader, Keith had no way of knowing, but he shared his new world with the man he loved.

Shiro had opened his home to him, leading him into the private corners of his sanctuary. He showed him deep beneath his castle, where the rivers of the Styx and Lethe and all their sisters trickled from gentle streams with enchantments so strong, not even the gods risked touching them. Shiro lead him down hidden corridors and through secret caverns, revealing everything about his world, everything he could share with infectious laughter and a hopeful smile, and in the nights, even with every room in the castle to choose from, Keith moved into Shiro’s bed and made good on his promises.

It finally felt like he’d found a place where he belonged. So when someone attacked his new home, Keith showed no mercy.

The gates of Hades were under siege. Mechanical soldiers on decorated arks crossed the river Styx in a formation of war, their weapons raised in the defiance of death. Even if he was surrounded and outgunned, Cerberus went mad with fury, growling and hissing at his post, refusing to give even an inch of his territory to those who might hurt his home.

From their balcony on the castle towers, the King and his consort saw everything, and before their shadows could move, they’d joined the fray.

Shiro dressed for battle, armor black as Tartarus and carved with the screaming faces of the damned. His eyes glowed from beneath his helm and where he walked, the dead gathered themselves at his command. Keith was at his side, cloak of red whirling around his shoulders like it had been stained in blood. A gift from his king and his love.

They met the mechanical soldiers at the edge of Hades as Shiro stared stonily out at the enemy. “Where is your master?” He boomed. “Hephaestus was too much of a coward to face me in my own realm? I am god here, how  _dare_  you challenge me?”

One of the soldiers stepped forward stiffly, gears whirring as it played a recorded message. “By order of King Zeus, god of gods, the Lord of Hades will surrender to divine judgement.”

“On what charge?”

“On kidnapping Zeus’s son and trapping an immortal in the lands of death. Your crimes have spread, cursing the mortal world with death and desolation.”

“No one kidnapped me!” Keith snapped, brandishing his sword. “I came here of my own free will and I chose to stay. You can tell Zeus that if he cared about his multitudes of offspring, he had his chance for centuries. I don’t believe for one minute that he gives a damn about where I am, he’s never spoken to me in my life.”

“Wait.” Shiro put a hand on Keith’s back. “What is happening in the mortal realm?”

The automaton clicked as it accessed more of the message. “The mortal world has been cursed by your selfishness. An immortal cannot die, your disregard of the natural law has caused the earth to freeze and everything to die. You will release Zeus’s son and surrender to his justice, or your kingdom is forfeit.”

“Impossible! I am not dead, and I reigned over nothing above ground! The earth has nothing to miss.” Even his King’s grounding presence did little to subdue Keith’s fury. It became clear now that this had been a set up from the very beginning, and he doubted that his brother cared if he’d lived or died in Hades. He’d just needed a victim, and Shiro suffered because of it. How could Keith have been so blind?

“My husband is not my prisoner.” Shiro said, venom spilling from his lips. “He is free to come and go whenever he pleases. We are not responsible for this curse.”

The soldiers remained painfully unsympathetic, until their voice boxes clicked open, and their warning repeated, rumbling and ominous. “You will release Zeus’s son and surrender to his justice, or your kingdom is forfeit.”

A cold shiver curled down Keith’s back, and he wondered with growing dread if there was even a chance of stopping these monsters or if they’d been designed with nothing but cruelty in mind. If Hades was damaged, or worse, what would happen to the souls who sought sanctuary here? The dead weren’t meant to walk among the living, but everyone seemed all too eager to make matters worse.

He stole a glance at his husband and saw his fears reflected in his dark eyes. Their loss was not guaranteed, but no matter the outcome of this battle, the Underworld would suffer. Such was the way of war.

Shiro stepped forward, his head held high. “I will submit to Zeus’s judgement.”

“Shiro, no!” Keith clung to his arm. “You know this is a trap, you can’t just give up.”

Shiro smiled and gave Keith’s hand a squeeze. “I know, but a war is what he wants. This way, he will have to face me and prove my guilt to the counsel of other gods. He will not have an easy time of it.”

“Then I’m coming with you. If they think you kidnapped me, I’ll prove them wrong.” Keith said defiantly, but Shiro didn’t even try to dissuade him. The mechanical soldiers flanked the pair like an honor guard and escorted them out of the Underworld towards the path of life. Behind them, whispering spirits gathered at the edge of the river Styx and watched worriedly as their rulers were led away.

 

* * *

 

Olympus hadn’t changed, it never did. The sky was a peaceful blue above pure white marbled pavilions, their gleaming columns decorated with living vines and flowers. The blight that plagued the mortal world hadn’t reached here. Keith didn’t care as he swept passed the gardens in a whirlwind, finding the one person in all of Olympus who could give him an answer.

“Allura, what is going on?!”

The Lady Athena, goddess of wisdom and war, turned her grey eyes on Keith with cool regard. “So you are back in one piece. Zeus had the entire city in an uproar over your disappearance convincing his supporters that you were dragged down into death as a warning to the rest of us.”

Keith fumed, curling his hands into fists and snarling. “I wasn’t kidnapped, I chose to go. Why should anyone care about where I decide to stay, it’s not like any of them cared about me while I was here!”

“You know as well as I that Zeus’s compassion is at his convenience.” Allura’s mouth pinched into a thin line. “None of this is about justice.”

She cut to the heart of the matter with such precision that Keith was left floundering, but only for a moment. “What do they want from him? The Underworld keeps to itself. Surely no fool would think Shiro is trying to extend his borders. He’s not the sort!”

“That may be the issue.” Allura seemed to consider him, assessing her position behind an inscrutable stare. She’d been outmaneuvering Zeus for countless years, building her base and strangling the support that fed her enemy. It was a battle that Keith had little stake in and had been happy to avoid. Now it seemed he’d been drawn in, not as a player but as a pawn.

“This whole thing is a lie, I’ll tell them all what happened and they’ll have to believe me. You can all clearly see that I’m not kidnapped.”

“You think that’ll convince anyone, little brother?” Lotor’s voice was smooth as oil and ignited Keith’s rage. Allura crossed her arms as the god of greed stalked across the garden to leer at them both. “The poor sad god of nothing, the perfect target for the evil Lord of Hades. You were an open target and so willing to believe his lies. He’s brainwashed you, it’s tragic.”

“Like hell he has!” Keith launched himself at Lotor and only Allura’s quick grab to the back of Keith’s armor kept him from tackling the other god. “ _You_ set this up, didn’t you? You’ve been planning this whole thing from the beginning, you lied about Shiro planning to attack the gods and you’re lying now.”

“Thank you, my lady.” Lotor gave Allura a deep bow. “Hades has poor Keith all turned around. I’m afraid his influence on my baby brother is more troubling than we all realized.”

“I suppose it will not be enough for you to have your brother returned safely?” Allura commented coolly.   
  
It was hard to say what changed about Lotor, if anything at all, but when his eyes turned towards Keith, Keith knew that he would never be getting a warm homecoming. His greatest sin had been coming back alive.  
  
“We are more than blessed to have my brother returned and safe though damaged as he may be,” Lotor said, the picture of compassion. “But the Lord of the Underworld cannot remain unpunished. With so much power at his fingertips, what’s to stop him from trying again?”  
  
Allura’s eyes narrowed, like a hawk sighting her prey. “And if he were stripped of his power, who could be trusted to guard his domain?”  
  
“Who indeed?” Lotor stepped closer, and Keith could feel Allura’s grip digging into his armor like she could rip it off his back. “I’m hoping it would be someone who could be trusted to remain outside of the quarrels of Olympus. You will know that I have never counted myself among my father’s allies, m'lady.”  
  
“Nor have I counted you among mine.”  
  
“Well, we can change that surely.”   
  
Keith snarled, and it was enough to give Lotor pause. Like a magician shuffling his deck, his smile and tone shifted. “First I would like to care for my brother. This ordeal has surely hit him the hardest.”  
  
This time Allura smiled her sweetest, as captivating as it was disarming. “That’s very kind of you, but Keith has sworn an errand in my name. I’m sure you understand. Bringing the darkness that plagues the world to heel has been our top priority.” 

“I’m sure it is.” Lotor flashed her a bright smile. “Well, as soon as he’s done with that, send him my way. We have a great many things to discuss.”  He gave Keith a wink before sauntering off towards the temples as Keith snarled, turning his rage on Allura.

“Why didn’t you let me go after him? He’s the one who started this whole thing, he’s behind what’s happening. Let me go and I’ll beat the truth out of him.”

“Hush, Keith. Lotor is right about one thing, the others may actually believe his claims that Shiro has manipulated you into staying with him for some nefarious region.” She said softly. Keith twisted out of her grasp and rounded on the goddess, eyes blazing.

“Shiro has been nothing but kind to me since the second I went down to Hades looking to find a way to destroy him!”

Allura watched him with a calculating expression, like she could see three steps ahead of any plan. “That was probably what Lotor hoped. Most gods are terrified of Shiro, the power of death isn’t one they can understand and they guard their own immortality jealously. If Shiro destroyed you, it would force Zeus to retaliate and wipe him out. Because he didn’t, telling everyone that Shiro held you prisoner and brainwashed you into staying may have the same effect. If Lotor wanted to rally the gods against Shiro and take his power, it would be a smart move.”

“Shiro  _loves_  me!” Keith shouted back at her, angry that she managed to stay so calm while Shiro was still in chains. “He made me his consort and I rule Hades with him, that doesn’t sound like a power hungry monster to me.”

“If that’s true, you will need proof, Keith. Something beyond your word to show them Lotor’s lies.”

Allura looked towards the Heavens, and for the first time, worry darkened her brow. “Whatever you find, Keith, find it fast. Your brother has waited a long time to see this scheme bear fruit. I doubt he will wait for much longer.”  
  
So Keith ran.  
  
With the goddess’s warning in his ear, he fled back to the Underworld. This time Charon asked for no gold to ferry him, and Cerberus greeted him at the gate with his massive tongues lolling. Keith was bowled over with affection and concern, left damp in every place. It was the first time he’d been left alone, and it was clear he hadn’t liked it.  
  
“When Shiro comes back, we’ll make it up to you,” Keith mourned. It was a promise he intended to keep, but it was easier said than done.  
  
The conundrum had plagued him since he’d left Olympus. How could he prove his sovereignty? Should he bring all the villages he’d built to the surface? Or perhaps the fields of bright red gladiolus that spread like the fires of the darkest corners of their kingdom?

The flowers! He stopped and looked out over the Asphodel Fields, the red blooms gleaming against the grey mist. They wound around the white flowers that usually covered the fields, pulsing with an inner light. Spirits who had once drifted aimlessly through death gathered around them, plucking handfuls as they wore the blossoms as garlands and twisted into braids. Keith could even hear the reedy sound of their laughter as they found their voices to break the silence.

Shiro had been searching for those flowers for so long, unable to remember how to form them, and now they had spread across his kingdom like a path. Would those be enough to prove their love? He followed their path through the fields as they wound deeper into Hades, the light from their pedals showing the way. What Shiro couldn’t do alone, they’d done together and they’d created this from their union.

It had to mean something.

Keith followed them. They carved a winding path through Hades in long swirling lines, a dizzying pattern that was too easily to get lost in, but he had no time to waste. They cut through the Asphodels so brightly their color reflected off their neighbors, and twisted through the Mourning Fields and their broken hearts. They dotted along the paths to Elysium without ever truly coming into full bloom, but guided him down the jagged roads to Tartarus. Down paths filled with ash and smoke so thick, Keith could taste it on his tongue. He climbed lower and lower until Keith could feel the warmth of immortal flame, and all soft light fled in terror. The strangled cries of faraway pains echoed through the caverns with every step. Just as he was certain that Tartarus would welcome him with open arms, the little patch of gladioli veered towards the west.

Keith hesitated, then he drew his sword. There was no telling what to expect.

The new path was winding and uneven, so narrow it could barely fit the width of his shoulders. Only the youngest flowers grew now, their petals shriveled and tired but still as vibrantly red as their siblings. Shiro had never taken him down this corner of his kingdom, nor had he ever implied that there was anything of importance before the gateway of Tartarus. More and more Keith worried that he’d set himself on a fool’s errand, but his desperation burned in his veins, and he was determined to see this through. Only the choice was no longer his.

The path cut off abruptly, as the last of the gladiolus flowers faded, and Keith found himself in front of a stone wall. It was as if he’d come across the side of a mountain, but it was a mountain that had no business being anywhere.

Angry lines cut into the stone, as if by claws bigger than even Cerberus’s, and Keith shuddered at the thought of  _that_  pet.

He put his hand on the stone wall, tracing the deep scars. The ground rumbled beneath his feet and Keith dropped into a defensive stance as a jagged crack split down the face of the rock. It crumbled as he watched, the gap widening until stones gathered by his feet. Darkness spilled from the hole, a stillness that sent shivers down Keith’s spine as he peered inside.

A single glowing gladiolus bloomed inside, a small unopened bud that pulsed like a heartbeat of red. Drawing his blade, Keith stepped through the crack and into the darkness, carefully picking his way among the rubble. It was like a tomb, tucked away and forgotten in the farthest reaches of Hades. The light from the blossom reflected off the still waters of a pool that shimmered like liquid silver, reminding him of the dangerous rivers that flowed through his kingdom.

Keith crept closer towards the hidden pool, the surface of the water as still as glass. His reflection caught, eyes bright and hunted. His mirror image smiled, tips twisting into a sneer and Keith stumbled back in surprise. Rocks shifted as a foot scuffed against the ground and Keith whirled, shadows dancing along the walls of the tomb.

“Who’s there?” He called, raising his weapon. The shadows just laughed at him, hollow and rattling.

“Show yourself!” He demanded. “I command you!”

As if birthed from the very stone, a gust of wind slammed into him, forcing Keith backwards. He stumbled, struggling for purchase until his feet splashed into the pool. Keith never got a chance to breathe. All at once a creature from the very depths of the water rose up, catching him around the throat. The god struggled in earnest, surprise blinding him. It lasted for only a moment, but it was a moment that could have cost him his life. Then Keith dug his blade into his attacker’s thigh, missing his own by sheer blessing, and as the stranger screamed, he rolled away. He turned on land, sword at the ready, his mouth twisted into a vicious snarl only to find himself staring back at him.

Or a demon holding his form hostage.

Dark haunted eyes look down on him from above a blood-curdling sneer. His skin was almost translucent, like he hadn’t seen daylight in centuries or felt the warmth of another’s touch in twice that time. Hair fell like an oil spill around his shoulders, but on his breast was a dented cuirass, built in the same fashion that had adorned Keith’s husband.

All at once, a terrible thought occurred to him. Could Shiro have trapped this creature down here? Could Shiro have done this is all to Keith?

“NO!”

His image roared, charging at him with intent to kill, and Keith parried his attack by the skin of his teeth.

“How could you?” The creature snarled, steel scraping against steel in a hail of sparks. “How could you do that to him?”

“To who? What  _are_  you?” Keith spat back, unnerved by the hatred on his doppelganger’s face and the rage that burned hot in its eyes. It moved like him, quick and agile. It sounded like him, but vicious, with power throbbing through its voice. It hit like a gale storm wind, light streaking behind his mirror’s heels as he danced across tomb.

“You left him alone! He locked me in here and you forgot!”

“I don’t understand.” Keith was giving ground, parrying each strike but it wasn’t fast enough. His double burned with power like a star trapped beneath his skin, overwhelming and uncontainable. He couldn’t lose, not when Shiro was counting on him for help. “Who was alone?”

“SHIRO!” The bright god howled, and the world around them trembled in his might, and for the first time, Keith feared that he wouldn’t be walking out of this alive.

“No, I-” This didn’t make sense. The sharp edge of the angry god’s blade cut into his arm and he yelped, golden ichor staining his armor. “I’m trying to  _help_  Shiro, Zeus has him. It was all a trick, they’re going to strip his kingdom away from him if I can’t save him.” The words tumbled from him in a desperate plea, but it was enough to stop his double’s sword a breath from his neck.

“Zeus.” His bright double’s lip curled, but it was a vicious angry thing. “He was afraid of us. He couldn’t kill, not truly, not enough. He made us  _weak._ ” It rounded on Keith, teeth gritted in a madman’s smile. “And there can only be one.”

Then he lunged. Keith wasn’t fast enough. The sword sliced through his chest, cutting through metal and leather like his armor was nothing more than paper, tearing through his ribs and spilling into his heart. His eyes went wide, light bleeding from his sockets. It burned through him, tearing him apart from the inside out, burning with more than he could contain. He could feel it crawling through his veins, crackling through ichor and blood and bone, and Keith opened his mouth to scream.

Then there was nothing.

 

* * *

 

The gods sat in judgement above him, dragging Shiro before them in chains. The factions were clear, the gods clustered around their chosen heroes. Zeus sat with his wife Hera and their general Ares. Once, Shiro had known them all by different names before they’d called themselves gods: Zarkon, Haggar, Sendak.

To the right was Allura under her helm of Athena with Hermes at her side. Shiro knew Hunk well, the trickster god traveled farther than any of the others to bring divine messages. But more than that, he served as the guide of the newly dead, bringing souls to the very edge of the River Styx even if he never crossed the waters himself. Beside him was Dionysus. The god of revelry looked unhappy about the proceedings as he leaned into Hunk’s space, demanding his best friend’s attention. There was war in the air and Shiro a pawn to play between them.

“We’ve brought you here to confess your crimes.” Zeus’s voice boomed out over the gathered crowd. “My son Lotor has brought us evidence of your plans to trap immortals in death and challenge our power. You’ve already kidnapped one victim.”

“You know that’s a lie.” Shiro tried to keep calm, but anger hummed through him as he stared Zarkon down. “I didn’t want anything to do with your war and I have never stolen anyone. Keith came willingly!”

Zarkon’s faction laughed as Lotor stepped forward with a sneer. “You expect us to believe that a god chose to leave Olympus for Hades? I know my little brother was rebellious, but that’s why he was so easy for you to lure into your clutches. You’re a traitor to all of Olympus, you should be stripped of your throne.”

“Why, you think you’d look prettier on it?” Shiro spat.

“It deserves the command of a suitable leader.“ Lotor smiled with a politician’s hunger. “Now above all else, Olympus needs stability. I promise a peaceful and impartial rule in trying times.”

“The God of Greed serves only himself.” Shiro spat. “Hades has always been uninvolved from the matters of Olympus. This trial and its accusations only sow unrest where there is none. Who’s to say who he’ll target next, or what lands he’ll claim as his own. His appetite is never satisfied.”

“Where is your proof to back up these bold accusations?” Lotor all but laughed, always the most alive when his enemies fought back, but Shiro didn’t even seem to notice him.

He was staring down Zeus, open and defiant. “This isn’t the first time you’ve done this.” He growled. “You’ve never had any honor. It doesn’t matter how many names you give yourself. You will always be the same monster, Zarkon.”

“And I think that’s proof enough of your guilt!” Zarkon boomed, thunder echoing as the other gods murmured nervously. “You will be stripped of your powers and thrown into the pit of Tartarus for your crimes to spend all eternity in the pit.”

A single shoot of green broke through the smooth marble floor, cracks spider-webbing across the stone. It was pale and thin as a blade, but grew as Shiro watched, stretching upwards with impossible speed. Green buds deepened, bleeding red as they burst open in a riot of color. Zarkon paused as the tendrils spread, burst through the stone one after the other until the throne room of the gods bloomed like a garden.

“What is the meaning of this?” Zarkon snarled.

“You’re one to talk about stripping power away.” Keith stepped from his creation as the other gods gasped and even Shiro stared in shock. He glowed with power, a golden shine to his skin. The bronze of his armor was etched in a riot of flowers carved into the metal and picked out in the precious gems of Hades, and he carried Shiro’s helm on his hip. “A crime has been committed against the gods, but you’re the one responsible.”

“Keith?” Lotor was subdued in his confusion, and even his venom was left humbled as the place beneath his skull began to ache. Another murmur of tension passed through the crowd, but it grew it pitch and alarm, confusion spinning as the force of old magic left the air crackling with power.

“Do you recognize me now, brother?” There was a serenity in Keith’s tone that he’d never been able to reach before. There was a new sense of stability that settled over his bones, like he was slipping on a well-worn coat after so long, and it didn’t hurt that his father was looking at him with utter loathing.

Keith stopped in front of Shiro, his husband’s features twisted in a mask of shock and hurt, the remnants of an old curse still bleeding through his veins. Very carefully, Keith wrapped his hands around the shackles that bound his wrists. They crumbled beneath his hands and fell to the ground with a loud clang.

“I never meant to leave you,” he whispered, gently soothing the bruises cruel metal had left behind. Shiro shuddered against him, his eyes still wide and uncertain.

“Keith I don’t… I don’t understand.” He quieted when Keith reached for him, cupping his cheek and guiding close so he could press a kiss against his brow. It hurt, and Shiro didn’t know why it hurt. But he knew that Keith would stay with him until it stopped.

“You will.” He promised.

“Guards, restrain both of the traitors!” Zarkon’s voice rang out, but before the guards could move, blooming vines wrapped around their bodies like chains.

“You called me god of nothing. You ignored me, abandoned me. I had no powers and no standing, because it was stolen from me.” Keith leveled his sword at Zarkon. “I am the god of life itself, but Zeus decided I was a threat. He split me from my powers and locked half of me away in the pool of Mnemosyne, the waters of memory, so no one would remember his crime. He built his authority by claiming  _he_  was the source of all life, that  _he_  was king of the gods because of it.”

“I remember.” Shiro said, words murmured in awe. “I know you from when we were young. You were my closest friend, the first in my heart. I made those flowers for you, I could never remember what they looked like or who you were.”

“Because Zarkon took those memories from you.” Keith lowered his sword and leaned into Shiro’s space, brushing his lips across his husband’s. “One half of me lived in lonely ignorance, the other locked away with only the pool of memory to keep me company. I watched you, Shiro. You struggled to hold on to me and the promises we made to each other, but I could never get to you. The parts of me are whole now, and I won’t leave you again.”

“Life and death.” Shiro promised.

“This is all a lie!” Zarkon stood, his allies reaching for their weapons. “How dare you accuse me, you upstart nobody. You will both be locked in Tartarus, I’ll see you cast into the void for your insubordination.”

“No!” Allura was already on her feet. “I remember now, we all do. You locked life itself away so you could claim it for yourself and you manipulated the memories of every god here. You don’t deserve the title of Zeus. I move to strip Zarkon and all of his supporters of their power for what they’ve done.”

“You wretch.” Zarkon sneered, looking across at Athena with cruel eyes, but her lips curled in a smile as a roar echoed through the court. The wisest of Zarkon’s supporters abandoned him first, and the most cowardly moved afterwards. As Keith watched, the other gods turned against his father, he took Shiro’s hand, and prepared to welcome the new council of Olympus.

 

* * *

 

Olympus was polished and primed, made of only the purest stone and rarest crystal, and built with long elegant strokes by the most masterful of architects. It was almost enough to hide the ugliness underneath.

Keith would be welcomed by the gods with open arms, and not just because of the good will Athena had bought for him in her rise to power. It couldn’t erase memories of centuries of neglect and indifference, but Keith kept those thoughts to himself. He was tired. Olympus was tiring, with its never-ending power struggles and wars danced through words. He found himself longing for the quiet that had followed him in the Underworld, and the gentle peace that always extended its hand. And more selfishly, he longed for something more.

“It’s beautiful here, isn’t it?”

Shiro lingered in the doorway to his chambers, as if they hadn’t claimed it as their own the night before, more times than Keith could count. “Even the best of Hades would struggle to match it.”

“It’s beautiful and selfish.” Keith grasped Shiro’s hand and pulled him inside, down to the bed of soft down and cool linen.

“Selfish?” Shiro laughed with surprised. “The most beautiful place to exist and you call it selfish.”

“It’s locked away for the gods only, and not even all the gods. There’s no one here to take care of except themselves, all of this is just empty.” He curled his fingers around Shiro’s face and drew him down into a lingering kiss, always surprised and delighted with how willing Shiro was to follow his lead. “Hades is for the dead, you’ve built them a home and you care about them. Between the two of us, we can make it a paradise.”

“Anywhere with you is paradise.” Shiro teased, stealing another kiss as he slipped the edge of Keith’s toga from his shoulders. “I’m sorry I forgot everything. I can’t believe I could ever have lost you.”

“It wasn’t your fault, I didn’t even remember myself.”

“I still should have remembered.” Shiro kissed Keith’s shoulder, dragging his mouth down the soft skin. “I mourned you, I could tell there was something missing. I promised to be with you forever and I broke that promise.”

Keith shook his head. “No, you never broke your promise. The part of me that was locked away watched you, even though I could never get to you. You were always so sad, Shiro, I wanted to claw my way out of there and get back to you. I should have found you sooner, but I was lost and fractured.”

“Well, I love all the parts of you.” Shiro teased.

A quiet cough from the doorway made them both pause, flushed at being caught. Allura pointedly looked slightly to the left as they sat up quickly. “My apologies for interrupting, but I was hoping to talk to Keith. There is a lot of work to do to set the mortal lands in order, they’ve suffered a freezing winter without life to help them grow.”

“I’m going home with my husband. Hades is my kingdom too.”

Allura looked sympathetic and concerned. It was rare to find a god who would champion the plight of humans. Their deaths especially seemed to empower their worship, but Allura also looked like she wasn’t planning to back down. “This has been a trying ordeal for all, but for you especially. I would not ask you to leave your home if these circumstances were not bleak. It seems that Lotor would have preferred a more powerful Hades when he took the throne, even at the expense of mortal lives.”

Keith wanted to be angry. Every time the God of Greed came up, his situation soured further, but he couldn’t blame those trying to repair his mess. The God of Life had many responsibilities it seemed.

“But I cannot leave Hades untended.” Keith said, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw Shiro’s expression soften in resignation. He could finally remember what that meant. His husband’s self-sacrificing streak had stretched far into their childhood. Keith cut him off before he could offer himself on a platter. “And I would not want to. Hades is my home and my heart. I cannot possibly choose.”

“You may not have a choice.” Allura said softly. “Life cannot live in death, the mortal world will freeze without you. They can’t survive. You have to stay.”

“You never wanted me here before, now you tell me I have to stay when I finally find someone who loves me?” Keith refused to let go of Shiro’s hand.

“They need you.” Allura knew he wasn’t cruel. Greed belonged to his brother and Keith was trapped. Shiro had locked himself away in his dark kingdom, trying to build a home for the spirits of the dead. He lived a sad, lonely existence in exile from Olympus to try and protect mortals once they passed, could he do any less while they lived? They needed him, even if he needed to wrap himself in Shiro’s arms.

Grief welled up in his chest as Shiro smiled, heartbroken but supportive. “I can’t leave you, I just got you back.”

“We are all bound by rules, Keith. Maybe-, maybe we could find a way to meet someday.” Shiro whispered.

 _Rules!_  Keith whirled, sudden inspiration flaring in triumph. “The rules! Those who have eaten the food in Hades are bound to it forever.”

Shiro frowned in confusion. “But you didn’t eat anything, I made sure of it. We were careful.”

“But I did. I swallowed your seed, I’m bound to you.” Keith said smugly even as Shiro’s face flushed a sudden, embarrassed red. Allura looked away, stifling a laugh.  

“But I’m not sure that-” Shiro tried, but Allura cut him off with a wave of her hand.

“I think that wisdom should prevail here. The earth needs you, Keith, but it’s true. You’ve bound yourself to Hades too. You were two halves of a whole, perhaps you could be again? Part of the year you will be here, bringing life to the mortals and the earth. The other part of the year, you will be the consort of death, bringing rebirth to souls deserving a second chance. The rules are honored and you help the mortals who need you.”

“Good.” Keith preened, all but glowing in satisfaction. It was a trade off he was willing to make, and he settled comfortably into the crook of his husband’s arm, ready to waste the rest of the day away, and as Allura turned to leave, Shiro squawked, “Can we just say they were pomegranate seeds?” 

**Author's Note:**

> You can find Dans [here.](http://itdans.tumblr.com/)  
> Rune's tumblr is [here](http://runicscribbles.tumblr.com/) and twitter is [here.](http://twitter.com/runicscribbles)
> 
> Please comment if you enjoyed! Come say hello. :)


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